by Zara Chase
“Cantara,” Raoul said in a firm yet gentle voice. “Honey, can you hear me?”
He touched her arm and she flinched like he had struck her. She tried to pummel him with her fists, possessed of superhuman strength.
“Get off of me!” she screamed in Arabic. “I don’t want to.”
“Cantara, wake up.” Raoul lightly tapped the side of her face. Zeke flinched, knowing he would have hated doing it. Seeing her in the grip of such unmitigated horror made it necessary. “Come on, darlin’, it’s just a dream.”
Her body abruptly stopped trembling and she quit fighting him. Her eyes alighted upon him and she looked confused.
“You were having a bad dream,” Raoul said gently, stroking the hair away from her face. “That’s all it was.”
“Don’t leave me,” she said, trembling. “Please don’t leave me here alone.”
Zeke and Raoul shared a look, shed their clothes in seconds and climbed into the bed, one on either side of her. Zeke took her hand as Cantara rested her head on Raoul’s shoulder. She sighed just once and mumbled something that sounded like much better.
“We won’t ever leave you, darlin’,” Zeke assured her. “We’ll always be here for you.”
“Hmm.”
She seemed reassured and within seconds she was sound asleep again. This time she slept through the night without once stirring.
* * * *
Cantara woke feeling rested, stronger. Of course, that might have had something to do with the two hunky bodies that had surrounded her throughout the night. She had drawn from solid protectiveness that felt so non-threatening that she mentally ceded responsibility for her wellbeing to them. The relief was palpable—as though a huge weight had been lifted from her shoulders.
She stretched and flung one arm carelessly to the side. An empty side. Her eyes flew open. They had left her. They’d promised they wouldn’t. Didn’t they realize how badly she needed them?
“Hey, easy baby,” said a voice from her other side.
She turned to see Raoul, leaning up on one elbow, his eyes alight with an unfathomable emotion as he watched her.
“I thought…I thought you had gone, that I’d dreamed it all.” Panic she was unable to conceal gripped her. “I was back in—”
“Shush. We won’t ever leave you again.” He brushed her hair away from her forehead with a delicate touch, lowered his head and gently covered his lips with his own. “Zeke has gone to make us some breakfast, is all.”
“What time is it?”
“Eight in the morning. You slept for twelve hours, apart from one brief nightmare.”
“I don’t usually sleep at all.” She frowned. “Well, I don’t think I do.”
“Well, I’m glad you feel secure enough to sleep here in your yellow room, darlin’.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against him. “I am so goddamned relieved to have you back, Cantara.” His shoulders shook and tears leak from the corners of his eyes. He was actually crying. Her beautiful, tough hunk of a husband who didn’t look as though anything could scare him was reduced to tears because he had missed her, and because he seemed to feel guilty about her ending up wherever it was she’d been to. “I’m so sorry I failed you.”
“I’m sure you didn’t fail me.” She snuggled up to the rock hard wall of warmth and safety that was his chest, anxious to reassure. “I think I must be pretty strong-willed.”
Raoul chuckled through his emotional turmoil. “Well, there is that.”
“You need to tell me what happened. It might help me remember, and absolve you from guilt.”
“We will, honey. But not yet. You need time to readjust before you relive your nightmares.”
“Whatever you think best.”
He smiled that meltingly gentle smile of his that so got to her and cupped her chin in his long fingers. “What I think best is having you here in this bed with us. I never thought it was gonna happen.”
She could feel something pressing against her thigh. Something hard. Yea gods, he had an erection! She panicked and jerked out of his arms. Did he want what the other one wanted from her—the one who had frightened her, hurt her? Wasn’t that what all men wanted, even the civilized ones like Raoul? Nice try, but she was onto him.
“Sorry,” he said, looking embarrassed. “It’s just the way you make me feel. Ignore it. It’ll go away on its own.”
“Raoul…I can’t…I don’t think I want to—”
“Listen to me, darlin’,” he said, holding her by the shoulders and looking intently into her eyes. “You’ve had one hell of a time. We can’t begin to imagine what you’ve been through.” Nor could she, that was the problem. It would help if she could remember. “But you’re safe now, and no one’s gonna make you do anything you don’t want to. Trust me on this.”
“I do trust you, Raoul,” she said, relaxing back against him. “But it’s confusing, not knowing who I am or what I’ve done, and being afraid of my own shadow. I don’t feel as though I’m the sort of person who scares easily, which makes it that much more frustrating.”
“Shush, I know.” He placed a finger against her lips and sent her another of his devastating smiles. It lit up his features, transforming his face from merely handsome to drop-dead gorgeous. “But we have all the time in the world now to make you better. You’ll remember when you’re ready to.”
Zeke joined them at that point, carrying a tray bearing their breakfast. He was wearing a ratty pair of cut-off jeans and, far as Cantara could tell, not a whole lot else. She might still be feeling weak, but not so weak that she couldn’t appreciate his sculpted torso, his rippling muscles and graceful coordination. He and Raoul were impossibly good looking and self-assured, but there the similarities ended. Zeke was part Arapaho. She sat a little straighter as she recalled him telling her that yesterday.
“What is it, babe?” Raoul asked.
“I can remember every single thing about yesterday,” she said dazedly. “I can remember bits about flying with a nurse on a plane, too. It felt like we flew a long way and then you and Zeke came to take me from that plane. That memory is spasmodic but I remember yesterday in its entirety. I remember everything since you guys came to get me.” She looked from one to the other of them expectantly. “Am I getting my memory back, or is my life starting from yesterday?”
“I don’t know, darlin’,” Zeke said, putting the tray down on a table beside the bed. “But it must be a good thing that you remember everything since we picked you up. We’ll ask the neurologist when he comes later today.”
She ate fruit and yogurt and drank more Earl Grey. Then the guys asked her if she wanted to shower and dress, or did she want to see the doctor in bed?
“No, I want to get up.”
She pushed the covers aside and stood up, pleased that her knees didn’t give out beneath her this time. The straps of the nightgown she was wearing slid down her arms and the entire garment pooled at her feet. They both stared at her in her nudity, but Cantara felt no necessity to cover herself. She didn’t know what to make of their expressions and so simply walked to the bathroom, trying not to show how much she didn’t want them to be disappointed by what they saw. She was too thin, her body a mass of bruises and scars that she had no recollection of acquiring.
But she was alive.
Cantara set the shower running and stood beneath the jets for a long time, soaping herself thoroughly and using the fragrant shampoo she found in the stall to wash her hair. Raoul had washed it for her the previous day but now that she could afford the luxury of washing herself as often as she liked, she would do precisely that. Eventually, with a lot of luck, she would feel clean again.
She walked back into the bedroom with towels wrapped around her body and hair. Both guys were still there, presumably in case she needed their help. She was glad to prove to herself that she didn’t.
“Better?” Zeke asked.
“Much, thanks.”
Raoul blew her a kiss. “Let me
help you find something to wear, darlin’.”
He levered himself athletically from the bed, not seeming to mind that he was stark naked. In all honesty, Cantara didn’t mind either. He was a sight to behold and she looked her fill, thinking she had good taste in husbands. Powerful muscles shifted and flexed as he moved across the room with catlike grace, sending her a devastating smile that she reacted to somewhere deep within her core. It was as though her body was emerging from a deep trauma and her feminine side was reacting to the attentions of a handsome man in just the way nature intended. She was glad that at least one part of her seemed to be in good working order.
She followed Raoul into her closet. He handed her a pretty pair of panties, the sight of which set off a fleeting memory.
“I bought them for you just after we married,” he explained in response to her confusion. “There’s a bra to match but you won’t need that until we’ve put some weight back on those pretty little tits of yours.”
He fleetingly touched one of the breasts in question and Cantara felt a sharp, tangible need rip through her. She gasped, sending Raoul a questioning glance. He chuckled, seemingly pleased by her response.
“Zeke and I have always been able to turn your lights on with just a touch,” he told her. “Seems nothing has changed.”
Both of them? “You mean, you, me, and Zeke?”
“It will all become clear. Sorry, sweetheart, I shouldn’t have said anything to confuse you more than you already are.”
He helped her into a cozy sweatshirt and comfortable cotton pants with an elasticated waist that prevented them from falling straight back down again. She thrust her feet into the slippers Raoul found for her, then went back to the bathroom and towel-dried her hair.
By the time she emerged into the great room, she heard the guys talking to someone. She panicked, and went to turn back to the yellow room—her safe haven.
“Hey, sweetheart.” Raoul held out a hand and she instinctively slipped hers into it. “This is Dr. Sanford. He’s the best man in the area to look after you. Will you let him do that?”
“Don’t leave me,” Cantara replied, panic building inside her.
“Not for a second,” Zeke assured her, taking her other hand and leading her to the seats they had occupied the night before.
Cantara sat between her two guys, feeling apprehensive of the stranger with kind eyes, but mildly euphoric because she could remember sitting there before.
“Hello, Cantara,” Dr. Sanford said in a gentle, non-threatening voice. “I hear you’ve had quite a time of it. Welcome home.”
* * * *
Sanford already had copies of Cantara’s medical records from the base hospital at Andrews. He had told Raoul and Zeke he was especially interested in their girl’s condition. Trauma associated with captivity was a specialty of his. That was undoubtedly why such an eminent consultant had agreed to make a house call. He spent over an hour with Cantara, gently asking questions that she mostly couldn’t answer. She was tense at first, but when it became apparent that Sanford meant her no harm, she gradually relaxed. But not to the extent that she was prepared to let go of Raoul’s hand. She clutched it so tightly during the entire hour that she was in danger of cutting off the blood flow to his fingers.
“Thank you, Cantara,” Sanford said when he stood up to leave. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you and I hope you start feeling better real soon.”
“Stay with Zeke a moment, babe,” Raoul said, ensuring Zeke had firm hold of her other hand before he extracted his from her grasp. He got up and moved out of ear shot with Sanford.
“What’s your opinion?” he asked anxiously.
“The memory loss was originally attributable to the fractured skull,” he replied. “Then she found herself in such a traumatic situation that her mind couldn’t handle it and closed down. There’s no reason why the memories shouldn’t come back, but she’ll need a lot of support to get through them when they do.”
“She’ll get it. Count on that.”
“I know she will.”
“Should we encourage her to remember, or is she better off not knowing?”
“Unfortunately there are no hard and fast rules in these cases. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but only Cantara can know what’s right for her. My advice is, if she asks and you think she’s strong enough to take it, then show her pictures of her past, tell her things. Drop the odd comment into conversations and see how she reacts. You know her better than anyone, so you’re the best person to judge what she can and can’t handle.” Sanford handed him a card. “My business and personal numbers are on there. I’m very interested in Cantara’s recovery.”
“You think she will recover?” Raoul jumped on the suggestion.
“I think there’s every chance.” Sanford flashed a professional smile. “She’s a tough young lady. And, in case you’re blaming yourself, it’s my belief that thoughts of you got her through her ordeal. She wouldn’t have remembered your names otherwise.”
“Thank you for that,” Raoul said, offering the consultant his hand as he walked him to the door. “It helps a lot.”
Chapter Nine
Over the next four weeks, Cantara’s rate of progress exceeded Raoul’s most ambitious expectations. Each day they saw small improvements in her. Her appetite returned, so did her strength. She gained a little weight, looked a little less gaunt, and the shadows lifted from her eyes. Her bruises had gone, her cuts healed and her scars began to fade. The physical ones, anyway. She walked longer distances with the two of them each day and got to know Iesha. The mare quickly caught on to the fact that Cantara was a soft touch and was waiting at the railings every morning for the treat Cantara took her.
“That mare is precocious,” Zeke declared, chuckling.
“She is magnificent,” Cantara replied defensively, smoothing her sleek neck and kissing her soft muzzle.
“Whatever you say works for me,” Raoul said. If she said the moon was made of cheese, who was he to argue?
She met Mark and Karl and didn’t seem afraid of them, which was encouraging. The guys had taken over the day to day running of the Agency while Raoul and Zeke devoted themselves exclusively to Cantara’s recovery. Significantly, she remembered more and more snippets, and asked more questions about what had happened to her. But her memories were still patchy and the guys had decided she wasn’t strong enough to hear the complete truth just yet.
“It’s very early days,” Sanford told Raoul during one of their many telephone consultations. “She’s doing way better than I would have expected at this stage. Just don’t push her too hard.”
A significant breakthrough came when Cantara had been in Wyoming for almost three weeks. They had fallen into the routine of Zeke helping Cantara to bed while Raoul tidied up the day’s business, answering any queries Mark and Karl couldn’t handle. That gave Cantara a bit of time alone with Zeke. Raoul made it to bed in time to kiss her goodnight, before her eyes fluttered to a close and she snuggled up between them. She occasionally woke in a sweaty panic but they had taken to leaving a low light burning in the room, so she knew immediately where she was. That she was safe. The nightmares appeared to come less and less frequently after that.
In the mornings it was Raoul’s turn to be alone with her while Zeke fixed breakfast. Raoul loved waking before she did, just so he could watch her sleeping and observe the small changes that had occurred in her since the previous day. No one would ever convince Raoul that he didn’t notice each and every one of them, no matter how insignificant.
This morning, Cantara turned the tables on him. He woke to find her leaning up on an elbow, watching him.
“Hey, you applying for my job?” he asked, leaning up for a kiss.
She returned that kiss with considerable enthusiasm. Up until now she had been wary of excess physical contact, and so he and Zeke had kept their kisses chaste. But this morning that didn’t seem to be enough for her. Her lips parted beneath his in an invitation th
at was simply too tempting for Raoul to resist. He had been burning with desire ever since her return, his frustration growing daily more acute as he yearned to exorcise her demons in a manner he knew the Cantara of old would have embraced with enthusiasm. He had been able to keep his instincts in check all the time she had been passive, but asking him not to follow up the messages she was now sending him—intentionally or otherwise—was too much.
With a groan, Raoul plundered her mouth with his tongue, savoring the sweet taste of her. With their lips still fused Raoul sat up, gathered her onto his lap and closed his arms possessively around her as he deepened the kiss. Her lips were soft and warm beneath his as Raoul kissed her like it was an Olympic sport and he a contender for the gold medal. He invested his heart and soul into that kiss, telling her without the need for words just how comprehensively he loved her, and how his heart had shattered to smithereens when he had thought she was dead. Her arms worked their way around his neck and her fingers tangled with his hair, just the way they used to. Did she remember that, or was her action instinctive?
“Baby,” he said, breaking the kiss, breathless and aroused. “We need to stop this right now, while I still can.”
“What if I don’t want to stop?” she asked, canting her head flirtatiously.
“I don’t want to take advantage.”
She chuckled, a throaty, confident sound he hadn’t heard her emit since her return and which filled Raoul with joy. “You’ve been teasing me with one of these every morning since I got home.” She reached beneath her butt to flick at his hard-on. “It’s about time you made good on your promise.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, you have no idea, but—”